The Amulet of Amon-Ra (5 page)

The last of the sunlight was just disappearing as they carried the dishes into the larger main room. Ramose was lighting several tiny clay oil lamps with a burning taper. Some he placed on the floor, and the others he hung from the ceiling. He had changed into a cleaner kilt.

“Ra goes to bed and Nut will soon watch over us,” he said.

“May it always be so,” said Meryt-Re. “Go change, Mentmose.”

She turned to Jennifer and gestured that she should turn around. Jennifer did so, brushing at the front of her dress. A few crumbs fell, but she had managed not to spill anything on it. Meryt-Re nodded, satisfied.

“By Bes, that smells wonderful,” said Ramose. “You've outdone yourself, my dear.”

“I only hope my humble efforts are enough,” said Meryt-Re, twisting her hands together. “Oh, I'm so nervous, Ramose. What if he doesn't like it?”

Ramose put his arm around her shoulders. “I'm nervous, too,” he admitted. “But we will show this Ka-Aper that we are capable of entertaining even the greatest of guests. Why, if the Pharaoh herself walked through our door, she would be impressed. Unless she has no taste.”

“Ramose! You should not speak of her so,” said Meryt-Re. “What if someone heard you?”

There was a knock on the door, startling them apart. Ramose opened it. Tetisheri stood in the doorway, bright-eyed and smiling. She wore a long white dress like Jennifer's, and gold earrings drooped from her ears, matching the necklace she had shown Jennifer in the market.

“Am I late?” she asked. “I wanted to come earlier, but first Father needed my help sorting his correspondence and then Mother wanted me to attend her when she went visiting, and then I had to change, and . . .”

“It's all right, Teti,” said Meryt-Re. “Our guest will be here shortly. But I should change, too. And get some scent balls for all of us!” She dashed up the stairs before Jennifer could puzzle out this reference, just as Mentmose was descending.

“Hello, Mentmose,” said Tetisheri, her eyes shining.

He grunted in response. At a look from his father, he relented. “Hello, Tetisheri. That's a pretty outfit.”

Tetisheri seemed to physically swell at this praise. She seized Mentmose in one hand and Jennifer in the other and towed them both into a corner, where she proceeded to tell them every detail of her trip to the market and to her mother's friend's house.

Jennifer glanced up at the window in the main room. Outside, the sky was darkening. The murmur of foot traffic seemed to have lessened considerably. She could hear voices, coming closer, although she couldn't make out what they were saying.

Meryt-Re dashed back down the stairs in a clean, white dress, a small bag swinging from one hand, just in time to hear a knock on their front door. Ramose swung it open and Neferhotep stepped inside, then gestured for his companion to follow. The man ducked under the sill and into the house, his face shadowed.

“Welcome, Ka-Aper, Reverend Sir,” said Ramose, bowing. “We are honored by your presence.”

“It is I who am honored,” Ka-Aper said in a deep voice. He stepped into the light cast by the overhead oil lamps.

Jennifer took a step backwards. It was the man she had seen in the street, walking under the striped canopy.

The sun was long gone and the remains of their meal were laid out on the mat, reduced to nothing but crumbs and bones. Ka-Aper had eaten from the duck dish, but had only had a few bites of everything else except the fish, which both he and Neferhotep had refused. Neferhotep had murmured to Meryt-Re that they followed the ancient tradition of priests not eating fish. Meryt-Re had looked stricken, but Neferhotep apologized for not telling her earlier.

Most of the time, Ka-Aper had seemed polite and attentive, but every now and then, Jennifer thought she had seen the start of a faint and somehow superior smile on his face.

“You have lovely children,” he said to Meryt-Re, scratching his chest under the wide pectoral necklace of alternating blue and gold beads. Several black scarabs hung within the beads, scattered all around the pectoral.

“Thank you,” Meryt-Re murmured. She hadn't spoken much all evening, but she had watched everyone closely throughout and made sure their dishes remained filled.

None of the other family members had spoken much, either. But Tetisheri had chattered on, making up for all of them. Now she was watching Mentmose and Neferhotep play a game called ‘Senet', which involved a carved wooden board, several polished stones and rules that Jennifer still hadn't figured out. Every time it was Mentmose's turn, Tetisheri made a suggestion. He rolled his eyes, but Jennifer noticed he usually did what Tetisheri said.

“You are fortunate to have a son,” said Ka-Aper, sipping wine from a clay cup. He grimaced, then set the cup down. “Neferhotep says he bids fair to become a competent craftsman.”

Meryt-Re lifted her chin. “He takes after his father.”

“That's fortunate.” Ka-Aper smiled. “And no doubt your daughter takes after you and will make a fine wife and hostess some day.”

“If the gods will it,” said Meryt-Re, with a slight flare to her nostrils.

“Neferhotep told me that Tetisheri will soon be your daughter-in-law,” said Ka-Aper. Jennifer thought she caught an edge of laughter in his voice.

Ramose cleared his throat. “So…Neferhotep said you wanted to see more of my work.”

“Yes,” said Ka-Aper, turning to him. “I was quite impressed with the pieces he showed me earlier. I was especially interested in the scarab that your daughter is wearing.”

Jennifer wrapped her hand around it, hiding it from view.

“I carved it for her, especially,” said Ramose. “I also included Amon-Ra's aspects as the god of wind and chaos, in prayers incised on the back.”

“A princely item. It would be an appropriate gift for someone associated with Amon-Ra,” said Ka-Aper.

“I could make another, similar to it,” said Ramose. “As you can see, Dje-Nefer is already quite fond of this one.”

“Hm, yes,” said Ka-Aper, apparently losing interest in it. “Your work for Parahotep was very nice, too. Several of the other priests commented on the quality.”

“Ptah guides my husband's hands,” said Meryt-Re.

Ka-Aper inclined his head towards her. “So he must, since Ramose produces such fine work.”

“Oh, sir?” said Neferhotep, laying a stone in place on the board. “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. Parahotep asked me after our meeting today if we could make sure his tomb is well-hidden.”

Ka-Aper shook his head, smiling sadly. “They all do, Neferhotep. These are degenerate times. Tombs are robbed of their contents almost as soon as their inhabitants are laid to rest. Pharaoh Hatshepsut, blessings be upon her head, has tried many ways to stop these horrible desecrations, but they go on, nonetheless.”

“The thieves are too sly, too experienced, for her soldiers,” said Neferhotep. “They have been at it a long time. Whole families of thieves are often involved.”

“How terrible!” said Meryt-Re.

Neferhotep nodded. “They take the offerings, the jewelry and amulets, the ushabti statues, and even the pottery. Sometimes they even take the canopic jars.”

“Even the jars?” asked Meryt-Re. “But how are the people to function in the afterlife, with no internal organs? And then to have to work in the gods' fields with no little ushabti to take the burden from them.”

“Do they sell the pieces?” asked Ramose, frowning.

“Upriver and down,” said Neferhotep, placing a pebble on the board. “At least those in the tombs still have the Book of the Dead to guide them to the afterlife.”

Tetisheri pointed to a spot on the senet board and whispered something to Mentmose.

“True,” said Ka-Aper. He poured himself another cup of wine from an amphora, then replaced it in the clay ring that held it upright. “The robbers do not destroy the texts, for fear of Ma'at's judgment against them, I suppose, though I suspect that their hearts are already heavier than her sacred feather.”

“May they be devoured by the monster of Osiris for their sins,” Meryt-Re said in a low, fierce voice.

“Just so,” said Ka-Aper. Jennifer thought she saw the ghost of a smile on his face.

“I regret to say some tombs are being defaced as well,” Neferhotep added. “Names and images of the person are sometimes removed.”

Meryt-Re gasped. “How are they to be remembered, then?”

“Some are not. Others have families which still retain some mementos,” said Ka-Aper. “If only even a small image remains, then so does the memory.”

“I do not like thieves,” said Meryt-Re darkly.

“Well, Parahotep has created a truly devious system to keep himself safe,” said Neferhotep. “He gave me the map of his proposed tomb.”

“You had best hide it then, before anyone else sees it,” said Ka-Aper.

“I will,” said Neferhotep. “Carefully.”

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the clack of pebbles on wood. Jennifer curled a lock of her long black hair around her finger. The marble-sized ball of oil and beeswax that Meryt-Re had pressed onto the top of her head had melted during dinner, releasing a flowery perfume. They had all worn them, although Neferhotep and Ka-Aper had refused, having brought their own scents.

Jennifer tried to hide a yawn behind her hand.

But Meryt-Re had seen it. “It is late,” she said. “I think it is time for my children to go to bed. Tetisheri, I assume you will be staying the night?”

Tetisheri beamed at her. “I would be happy to.”

“Very good. Mentmose, will you put a mattress down in Dje-Nefer's room for Teti, please?”

“Can't I do it later? I'm winning!” he protested.

“You can play some other time,” said Meryt-Re.

“Leave the board as is, and next time we'll pick it up where we left off,” suggested Neferhotep. “Unless your mother will let you stay up a little longer in the company of adults?”

“Oh, very well,” said Meryt-Re, smiling at Mentmose. “Be quick about it, then.”

“Yes!” said Mentmose, raising his hands in triumph.

“And Dje-Nefer—no star-gazing tonight, please,” said Meryt-Re.

“Does your daughter have aspirations as an astronomer?” asked Ka-Aper, absently playing with his wine cup.

“She has always loved admiring Nut's beautiful jewelry,” said Meryt-Re.

“She even fell asleep in the garden last night,” Mentmose added.

“By the way, I checked the wards on the garden when I went upstairs this evening,” said Neferhotep. “There is a spot where the reeds are bent down, perhaps from the weight of a bird landing. It may have affected the wards. I can renew them tomorrow, if you like.”

“That would be fine,” said Meryt-Re.

“Are you worried about the Walkers of the Night?” asked Ka-Aper, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Her amulet will protect her.”

“Yes,” said Neferhotep. Then he frowned at Jennifer. “But all the same, I suggest you stay indoors, Dje-Nefer.”

“I am sure she will heed your good advice,” said Ka-Aper.

“Come on, let's go,” said Mentmose, picking up an oil lamp and rising. “I want to get back to the game.”

“It was an honor to meet you, sir,” said Tetisheri, as she curtseyed. Jennifer awkwardly copied her.

“I'm sure we will meet again sometime,” said Ka-Aper, saluting them with his wine cup.

“Would you like to see my workshop now?” asked Ramose.

As the girls climbed the stairs, Jennifer glanced at him, sure she would find Ka-Aper watching her. His attention was all on Ramose.

“Yes, of course,” said Ka-Aper. He followed Ramose and Neferhotep to the back of the main room. Meryt-Re was left to stack the dishes and carry them to the kitchen.

“Does your mother not have a servant yet?” asked Tetisheri.

“Uh…,” said Jennifer.

“No,” said Mentmose.

“Oh. Not even…”

“You know how she feels about slaves,” said Mentmose, shaking his head.

“Yes,” said Tetisheri, unusually terse.

Mentmose retrieved a mattress from his parents' room and unrolled it on the floor beside Jennifer's, then topped it with a thin blanket and a crescent-shaped headrest. Tetisheri's flow of chatter resumed as soon as he clattered down the stairs, taking the lamp with him.

Jennifer only half-listened to Tetisheri as the two girls got ready for bed. Meryt-Re had provided them all with toothpicks after the meal, but she longed for her toothbrush. She copied Tetisheri, who lay on her back on the mattress with her head nestled in the crescent-shaped brick. As she pulled up the sheet, Jennifer glanced out the high window. She wondered if Dje-Nefer missed her stars.

The little cat wandered into the room and stretched.

“Oh, there you are, Miw,” said Tetisheri, patting her mattress, which the cat ignored. “Where have you been all evening? Do you think he likes me?”

“Who?” asked Jennifer, startled. “The cat?”

“No, silly! Mentmose,” said Tetisheri.

“Oh. Um, sure.”

Tetisheri heaved a great sigh. “I don't know. He just never seems very happy to see me. And I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't like me when we're married.”

Jennifer was startled to see a tear on Tetisheri's cheek, glistening in the starlight. She tried to think of something comforting to say.

“I'm sure he'll come around. Boys are like that. My mother says they mature later than girls.”

“Yes, that's true,” said Tetisheri. “Even my mother says that.” She wiped her face and was off again, babbling about what their house would look like when they were together. If it all came true, her dream home would have more furniture and ornaments than Jennifer could imagine. Finally, Tetisheri wound down, sort of like a car running out of gas. She drifted off to sleep right in the middle of a sentence.

Jennifer wriggled, trying to get comfortable on the silly headrest. Exasperated, she removed it completely and put her head down on the mattress. That was better, although she wished she had a pillow.

Tetisheri was already snoring gently, but despite the long, tiring day, Jennifer couldn't sleep. Trying not to wake the other girl, Jennifer crept from her bed into the other room. Meryt-Re's wide bed creaked as she sat on it and stared out the doorway into the garden. So many stars! She could understand Dje-Nefer's fascination. The only time Jennifer had seen so many was when she and her father had gone camping. Once, he'd taken his telescope and taught her the names of the constellations. She smiled, remembering, then swallowed. Would she ever see him or her mother again?

The sky looked different from the one at home. There was Orion the Hunter, down by the horizon, but sideways.
Cassiopeia's ‘W' was in the wrong place, too.

At least they were there, even if they weren't quite the way she remembered them. It was different here. Some of it strange, but some of it weirdly familiar. She felt…what was Grandma Jo's word for it?

“Discombobulated,” she said. That was it. She felt discombobulated.

Jennifer hadn't removed the scarab necklace when she lay down. In the darkness, she couldn't see the hieroglyphs, but she could feel its smooth solidity. She hesitated, then flipped it open. It was still empty. She hadn't really expected it to suddenly fill with some sort of magical dust, but who knew? If she wanted to get back home, she would have to figure out what the dust was. She was sure the amulet and its dust must have had something to do with her coming to ancient Egypt.

She snapped the scarab closed again. A cool breeze brought the many scents of the garden into the room, some sweet, some spicy. Funny how it could be so hot during the day and so chilly now. She sniffed appreciatively at the fresh clean air. No brown ring of pollution here.

Jennifer lay back on the wide bed. Actually, she wasn't sure she wanted to go home—not yet, anyway. Even though it was confusing and even exhausting at times, she was enjoying herself. It was cool to see the buildings with their bright paints still visible. The people were nice. Mostly. She wasn't sure she trusted Ka-Aper. Everyone else was fine. Tetisheri was too chatty but seemed a good friend to Dje-Nefer. Jennifer wondered what her own friends would think if they were here.